


I See You

by Hansotsi (Karmula)



Series: Hanna Week 2014 [9]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Glasses, Hanna Week (Disney), Hans Loves His Wife, Married Sex, Paperwork, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karmula/pseuds/Hansotsi
Summary: Hans wears glasses. It's hot. That's the whole fic.





	I See You

**Author's Note:**

> For prince-hans-pants. Originally written for Hanna Week Day VIII, 2014. Edited and reuploaded in 2019.

Hans squinted at the words in front of him, desperately trying to keep them in focus. West-less-town, did that say? _Wes_… Weselton, that was it. Sighing, he slid his glasses down the bridge of his nose, balancing them on the pointed tip of it as he rubbed his eyes. The oil lamp beside him was burning low, its dying, flickering flame definitely not improving his already-impaired vision, but he could not bring himself to get up and refill it.

Readjusting his glasses, he returned to the stack of papers in front of him, brandishing an eagle-feather quill.

“Haaa-_aaaans_,” Anna whined, slouched in her favourite chair behind him.

"Hmmm?” Hans replied half-heartedly, not looking up from his work. Instead, he dipped the nub of the quill into the small, ceramic pot of ink beside him, signing his name with a flourish. “Yes, dear?”

“Can we _play_ now?”

"I’m working, Anna,” he muttered, rubbing slow circles into his temples with two digits in an attempt to ease the pounding headache behind his aching, watering eyes.

“But I want to _play!_”

"I’m _working_, Anna!” Hans snapped angrily, almost punching a hole through the thick parchment he was printing on with the nub of his quill.

Anna huffed, and there was a prolonged, high-pitched squeak as she eased herself out of her chair. Soon enough, Hans felt her small hands on his shoulders, gently massaging his neck before sliding down across his chest to tweak at his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. They stiffened instantly beneath her touch as she pinched and rolled them between her fingers. Hans inhaled sharply, arching a little into her touch, and Anna laughed.

"See? _They_ want to play,” Anna breathed huskily into his ear, darting her tongue out to lick along the delicate pink shell of his outer ear before ducking down to nibble and suck at his earlobe, worrying the flesh between her teeth.

"Ohhhh…” Hans moaned, his grip growing slack. His quill fell with a clatter to the desk, splattering black ink onto his carefully printed missives. The noise snapped him out of his arousal-induced reverie, and Hans jumped in his chair. 

“_Anna_,” he cried, pushing her away and desperately trying to salvage his work. “Now look what you’ve done!”

Frowning, Anna reached over and snatched his glasses off of the bridge of his nose.

"Wha – Anna, I _need_ those!”

"Exactly. If you don’t have your glasses, you can’t work. And if you can’t work, then you can play.” A wicked smile stretching her lips, Anna slid Hans’s wire frames onto her nose, pushing them up with her index finger. Her already-wide eyes were immediately magnified to twice their size, and Hans had to suppress a chuckle – soon, though, he was too embarrassed to laugh.

“Wow, Hans, your eyesight is _terrible_! I can’t see anything… It’s so blurry!”

Flushing cherry-red, Hans reached out to retrieve his glasses, but Anna ducked, laughing. 

“I know, Anna - that’s why I need them back, please.” He made another grab for them, but Anna took them off her nose and held them just out of arm’s reach, sticking her little pink tongue out at him and blowing a big, wet raspberry. Wiping flecks of saliva from his face, Hans narrowed his eyes, grinning crookedly.

"Alright – you asked for it!” he growled, jumping out of his chair and lunging for Anna. She squealed and turned on her heel, scampering away.

Hans gave chase, his extended hand _almost_ but not quite brushing against Anna’s skirts as she dodged him, laughing breathlessly. Clambering over the bed, she swung back around the foot of it, close to his desk, and made for the door–

But Hans cut her off, leaping from their bed and tackling her to the ground, snaking his arm around her waist at the last moment to slow her fall, his knees landing on either side of her in a straddle. His wife’s breathing, already hampered by the tightness of her corset, was heavy, the half-globes visible of her pale, freckled breasts heaving with each laboured breath.

“Hans!” she managed to gasp, before his mouth found hers, effectively silencing her. “Mmmph! Mmmm…” It was Anna’s turn to flush as Hans moved his lips quickly against hers, soon finding a fast-paced rhythm.

Withdrawing slightly, he traced his tongue along the edge of her lower lip, and she moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pouting. “Hans… _please…”_

Hans smirked, cocking an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“_Please…_”

Laughing lightly, he bent to kiss and nip gently at her jawline, moving slowly down the curve of her neck and suckling at the hollow of her collar bone. She gasped, tilting her head backwards in order to provide him easier access. 

“Oh, _Hans… Oh_.”

Quickly, though, Hans abandoned the plane of her neck and instead returned to her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth and deepening the kiss, exploring her with sweeping, feathery strokes. She hummed happily, practically _swooning_ in his arms.

Hans broke away with a soft, sucking _plop _noise, leaving Anna giddy and giggling. Plucking his glasses from Anna’s nose, he swiftly slipped them up the bridge of his own with his middle finger. He began to stand up, grunting slightly as he shifted his weight fully to his knees, when Anna’s hand shot out and grasped him by the collar.

“Where are you going?” she whined, her bottom lip pushed out adorably in a pout, still glistening with moisture from Hans’s kisses. She was breathing heavily, breaths shuddering in and out of her chest, and her face and neck were flushed a deep, warm pink, heat practically radiating from her skin. And when Hans inhaled, he could smell just the _faintest_ scent of her arousal, could taste it on his tongue.

“Back to my work,” Hans replied, smirking smugly at her expression and rising to his feet.

Tightening her grip on the collar of his shirt, Anna tugged him back down, half-sitting up herself and peppering kisses along his cheek. Unbalanced, he fell on top of her with a grunting sort of ‘oof’ noise. Anna licked his cheek, stamping wet little kisses on his skin, nipping at the softer, more sensitive areas at the base of his jaw and neck, leaving small love bites and the blossoming pinkish-violet of hickies in her wake.

“Ha-_ans_ – _oh_,” she managed, her voice hitching along with her breath as she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face more firmly in the curve of his neck, fingernails scratching at his back through his shirt.

Hans responded, all pretence of work forgotten as he felt Anna’s warm little tongue scrape wetly against his skin, cupping Anna’s face in one hand and trailing the other down her side, slipping it around her waist to fumble with the elaborate ties at the back of her bodice while Anna struggled with the buttons of his waistcoat.

“Why – does – this – _thing_ – have – so -– many – damn – ties,” Hans grunted, fingers working frantically at Anna’s corset. Anna cried out as she felt it release suddenly, and her breathing immediately deepened.

He tore open her bodice, exposing her taut, bare breasts, decorated with a smattering of freckles, and hiked her skirts up around her waist, wasting no time, and by now tremendously aroused. Hans ducked to nip at the soft underside of Anna’s right breast, sucking and pulling with his lips at the sensitive flesh and moving his tongue upwards. He swirled it around the edge of the darker skin of her areola, and the cool, foggy lens of his glasses pressed against her nipple, inciting a deep, heart-felt moan from his wife as they hardened to a point.

Meanwhile, she had managed to remove Hans’s waistcoat – it was lying discarded in a crumpled heap on the floor – and had moved on to unbuckling his pants.

Retreating from his position at her breast, he dipped a hand down to help her, the other cupped around the back of her head. Together they tugged his breeches down to around his ankles, until he was dressed in only his undergarments and a wrinkled, pale gold shirt, unbuttoned and hanging half-open during their activities thus far, exposing the crop of thick, auburn curls decorating his chest. His manhood was straining against the fabric, and the strawberry blonde pressed into the floor beneath him moaned in anticipation as this layer was shed. He was so hard his entire length was quivering, his head already slick with pre-come.

Anna reached out a hand, wrapping her fingers around the temple of his frames and making to remove them. Hans’s hand landed lightly on her wrist, and he shook his head at her, breathing heavily. “No.” 

She shot him a questioning, confused glance, eyebrows knotted together, a crease in her forehead.

"No,” he repeated, more gently and less forcefully than last time, but still firm. “I want to be able to _see_ you, Anna. I want to see how beautiful you are as we make love.”

Anna blushed, the apples of her cheeks almost fuchsia as she stared up at her bespectacled husband. The lenses of his glasses were foggy from the warmth of their breath, but through them she could still see his eyes, piercing, insistent, _beautiful_. She nodded once, breathless.

Hans took his shaft in his hand, stroking it quickly with his thumb and aligning it with her entrance. When she felt it brush against the swollen, hardened bud of her clitoris, her heart skipped a beat and she bit down on the inside of her cheek, the salty, rusted tang of blood flooding her mouth. She could feel the tip of him, teasing and light, dipping shallowly into her most secret place, and she dug her fingers into Hans’s back, scrabbling for purchase.

He thrust inside of her, and she cried out, moving her hands to his shoulders and bracing herself against the next thrust, clinging tightly to him. She could feel his warm skin, the outline of his veins, pressing against her inner walls, stretching her, filling her so _deliciously_ she thought she might reach her peak in a matter of moments, and she could smell their combined aromas, like electricity in the air.

Hans plunged into her again, rising up slightly and angling his hips to hit _just_ the right spot inside of her – and she screamed wordlessly, all knowledge of language and coherency lost in the height of her ecstasy, and her inner walls clenched around him tightly.

The pads of his glasses were slippery with sweat, and he felt his frames sliding down the damp bridge of his nose. Gasping, he paused in his thrusts, reaching up his middle finger to push them up higher. The clarity of his vision through the lenses was unbelievable, if a little steamed up. He could see every lock of Anna’s hair, every stray wisp that had come loose from the every present twists of her braids; each and every freckle, each varying in tone and size, a handful scattered across the bridge of her nose and another two for each cheek; the liquid gleam in her blue eyes. He was close, so close, and judging by the uneven rise and fall of her breasts, the shape of her open mouth as she moaned, she was close too.

Lost in the beauty of his wife, he was only brought back down to earth as he heard her whine loudly, wordlessly protesting against his momentary pause in movement, and quickly he thrusted one last time. Together they cried out, her clutching at his broad shoulders and him digging his fingers into the carpet beneath them. Anna felt his warm, thick release fill her from the inside, and her own dribble down his length and spot the floor. She hung limp as she came down, sticky and glowing, trying desperately to regulate her uneven, ragged breathing.

Hans rolled over beside her, glancing at the rise and fall of her silhouette and again readjusting his glasses.

Rolling over herself, Anna plucked them off the bridge of his nose. Hans protested, but she waved him off, sitting half up and using her skirts to wipe away the condensation on his lenses. Lying down once more, she slid them back on, a satisfied smile stretching her lips.

"Can you see me?” she whispered, balling her hands to his chest as she scooted closer, one leg slung haphazardly across his waist. He wrapped an arm around her protectively and kissed the crown of her head.

“I see you.”


End file.
